


Hatecrush

by ScrawlingStories



Category: OK K.O.! Let's Be Heroes
Genre: (or so he thinks), Angst with a Happy Ending, Blackrom, Enemies to Lovers, M/M, Rad's an angsty alien whose culture these Earth-dwellers simply can't understand, also the Boxmore kids are actually canonically loving siblings and I Literally Weep, assuming Boxmore has multiple Darrells but only ever one Shannon and Raymond at a time, going on here lol, idk let me know anything else I should tag 'cause I'm clueless here lmao, imagine that., kind of, oh god. tags. we meet again, so I guess there's actually quite a bit of, there's like literally 8 non-Homestuck fics here tagged as blackrom, uhhhhh....
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-11
Updated: 2017-09-11
Packaged: 2018-12-26 11:20:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,922
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12057936
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ScrawlingStories/pseuds/ScrawlingStories
Summary: Are y'all really trying to get me to believe that in this super-power/hero-based universe that has Team Dynamics and Hero/Sidekick Dynamics and Hero/Villain Dynamics, that they don’t ALSO have a category for a blackrom-style Nemeses-That-Also-Kinda-Makeout-Sometimes Dynamic???...No? That's not A Thing?. . . . . . Well, in this fic, it's apparently A Thing on Planet X at least, and Raymond is going to have to learn the hard way what that's even actually supposed to mean.





	Hatecrush

**Author's Note:**

> Here I am back on my self-indulgent BS again. Now with 100% less unplanned-smut!! :Dc
> 
> Yep, I'm still a dirty Homestuck in the year of our lord 2K17, and now it's even bleeding into my other fandoms. What can I say, I'm a sucker for my roots~ ¯\\_(;ツ )_/¯
> 
> And these two in canon are perfect Spades. Look me in the eyes and try to tell me otherwise. I dare you.
> 
> (( Anyways... please enjoy~! :3 ))

_His eyes were different._

The thought that had been plaguing Raymond for the past week or so reared its metaphorical head into the forefront of his mind again, and he sighed under his breath. Now really wasn’t the time, when he was trying to focus on beating a handful of Darrells in a four-on-one basketball game. Not that he really needed to focus—they were just _Darrells_ after all—but if he was going to finally get another rare moment to actually pursue his sports hobby between scheming up and carrying out missions for Lord Boxdad, then he wanted to be able to actually _enjoy_ it, not be distracted by…

Well. Other things.

So he forcibly shoved the errant observation from the center of his attention yet again and quickly reassessed how the situation at hand had changed in the few seconds that he had spaced out. Tch. Darrells could try to be slick all they wanted, but they were like bumbling human toddlers in comparison to him. He smirked. Dodge, dodge, dash, pivot, _shoot_ —and another perfectly-arced shot sailed through the air from the half-court line and sank through the net with that one particularly-satisfying _swoosh!_ sound that could only be achieved by such a pro shot.

Raymond let out a cheer and pumped his fist into the air as all four Darrells grumbled and complained in overlapping unison at the successful long-shot. “Well, that takes it up to a solid score of 100 to 3.5 now. I think you boys have had enough embarrassment for today, hmm?”

“Shut up, Raymond,” one of the Darrells snapped, all of them now pouting furiously around the middle of the court. “One more match! All or nothing!”

Raymond snickered. “You’ve said that the past 25 times now. So, I think I’ll finally pass. But you all can stay here and practice with each other for a while longer, if you’d like.”

All four brooding eyes immediately lit up in surprise and wonderment at the offer. Raymond propped his hand on his hip and tried his best to not let his haughty attitude falter under their awestruck gazes. The sports fields and equipment were Raymond’s territory—well, not actually, but ever since his first arrival he had pretty much lain claim over the previously-empty area and sculpted it into the individual fields and courts that now filled the space, and no one else had ever had either the courage or skill to challenge him for the rights to any of it—and he only ever allowed anyone else to use them as long as he was involved, too.

“Y-You really mean it?”

He shrugged and looked boredly off towards the exit. “Sure, just don’t break anything. If you practice a bit it might actually help you get better, and it would be nice to have an actual _challenge_ to play against for once.”

He’d meant that to be an insult, but the Darrells were far too excited about getting to play ball without him for once to notice that they should have been offended. Raymond rolled his eyes and turned away towards the exit, but he couldn’t stop the small smile that snuck onto his face as the Darrells all clambered happily over each other for the ball that had rolled to the other side of the court.

 _It would be nice to have an actual_ challenge _to play against for once._

A pair of dark eyes swam into his focus again, and his steps faltered as he walked along a thankfully-empty hallway somewhere in the depths of the Boxmore complex. Fine. He wasn’t actually busy anymore, so he finally allowed himself to stop and dwell on the subject that had been needling at the back of his thoughts for days.

It was that one hero from the plaza. Of course it was a hero; wasn’t it always? They just _had_ to always meddle and get in the way and foil Lord Boxman’s evil plans like the troublesome do-gooders they were—and now _this._ Some kind of psychological warfare tactic, surely. Raymond huffed and crossed his arms, leaning against the nearest wall as he let himself process.

It had all started a week before—well, 9 days past, to be exact—when Raymond had been sent to attack the Plaza again. That had been the first time he’d been back in a long while, over a month at least, and the heroes had almost seemed a bit surprised to see him again. Good~ Gar hadn’t been around that day, which Raymond had been inwardly relieved to find, leaving him to have to deal with just the usual trio of K.O., Enid, and the soon-to-be troublemaker, Radicles.

In hindsight, Raymond supposed that it might have been inevitable. There had always been something about the blue alien that made him gravitate towards him—probably the fact that they shared a similar air of confidence and superiority, a detail that Raymond had locked onto from the very first moment he’d stepped foot into the Plaza. It had been so easy to banter with him, effortlessly trading quips and snarky comments before Raymond had ultimately been able to defeat him. And Rad had certainly proven to be an actually-somewhat-formidable opponent during their second encounter, when they had faced off in an impromptu dance battle at the Prom that Raymond had ~~crashed~~ saved not too long after their first meeting. Rad had actually been able to best him on the dance floor, _somehow,_ and Raymond had been hungry for a rematch to regain his wounded pride ever since. In all honesty, a Plaza attack would be the perfect way for him to achieve such a simple goal, and he had gone into the battle with even more enthusiastic anticipation than usual.

The attack had started off without a hitch. The Lakewood Losers were still comparatively clumsy and almost painfully easy for Raymond to out-maneuver. He had dealt quickly enough with Enid and K.O. through the skillful use of a few expertly-aimed laser blasts and an oversized baseball bat, perhaps so as to not-so-coincidentally leave it down to just himself and Radicles to finish out the fight. Raymond had smirked as he faced the final challenger, and Rad had returned the expression with just as much cocky self-assurance. They had easily traded a few more clever remarks between strikes and dodges, and Raymond had been thoroughly enjoying himself for the first time since—well, since the dance battle. But it hadn’t taken long for Rad to slip up, one sloppy movement, a single unguarded opening—and Raymond had seized the opportunity to dive forward and tackle him to the ground.

Rad had struggled, of course, and very valiantly at that, but Raymond’s sturdy metal frame had kept him pinned unceremoniously to the rough pavement of the Plaza parking lot without much difficulty. Raymond had clucked his tongue softly in mild disappointment; if only he weren’t so incredibly apt and capable in battle. He really _was_ just too good, after all. “Such a shame. After that admittedly impressive performance at your little _‘Prom’,_ I thought that you might actually be able to provide something of a _real challenge_ for me, Radicles. Oh well; apparently even Perfection is mistaken on occasion~”

And Raymond had no idea why, but that particular comment seemed to have affected Rad more than any of the other verbal jabs he’d thrown at him that entire afternoon. Rad had stopped struggling completely, going almost eerily still for a non-robotic being in the span of a single second, and his eyes had taken on an oddly dark, intense look to them, in a way that Raymond was sure he’d never seen before.

 _“I’ll_ show you a challenge…” Rad had muttered under his breath, barely above a growl, and the next thing Raymond knew he was being thrown back in a blast of purple haze that carried him halfway across the parking lot. He barely had time to catch his balance on the landing and reorient himself before Rad had been on him again, and the last thing Raymond saw was the fierce gleam of those darkened eyes once more before a fist connected with his torso and sent him sailing through the air all the way back to Boxmore.

Aside from the fact that he had somehow been beaten _again_ —and in a way that _hadn’t_ even involved the added pressure and subsequent embarrassment of a literal spotlight and crowd of spectators cheering in support of his opponent—Raymond hadn’t been too broken up about the situation. After the personal horror show that had been his first-ever failure, the I’m-So-Very-Deeply-Disappointed-In-You speech he received from Lord Boxman after crash-landing through the ceiling of his office was nothing he couldn’t handle. It had stung a bit, sure, as he assumed that failing his objective and disappointing his father always would, but he hadn’t been all that worried about it. He had chalked his failure up to the fact that it had been such a long time since his last Plaza attack and subsequently pleaded with Lord Boxman to give him another chance more quickly than the last time so he wouldn’t have time to grow complacent and foolishly underestimate the heroes’ abilities again.

Boxman had been skeptical but ultimately (begrudgingly) relented under the full force of Raymond’s most moving puppy-dog eyes and agreed to send him back again at the start of the next day. That fight had gone… not even as well as the previous day because Gar had been present this time, a factor which had thrown an entirely new breed of wrench into the fighting mix that Raymond hadn’t been prepared to deal with on his own. However, he had been able to hold out long enough to notice that something else was off besides the addition of the fourth hero: Radicles wasn’t acting like his usual self. Every comment Raymond made was left hanging in the air untouched, unappreciated, and Rad’s face had been like a mask, unnervingly serious throughout the entire fight, never once cracking even the smallest of smiles, and his _eyes…_ Blank. Empty. Like he hadn’t even been _seeing_ him.

It was so off-putting that it had actually caused Raymond to stop in his tracks in the midst of the battle, and he never even saw the elbow strike that hit him from behind and blasted his robotic body into several dozen pieces that clattered against the pavement of the parking lot in a shower of sparks.

When he had come back online in his new body at the factory a few moments later, Raymond’s first thought had been that it wasn’t fair. Why was Rad acting like this all of a sudden? It wasn’t like Raymond had actually even _done_ anything to him—well, anything outside of the usual, at least—so what was the issue? Getting to face off against Rad was basically the most enjoyable part of having to constantly attack the Plaza at his father’s bidding, and if Rad wasn’t even going to act like _Rad_ when they fought anymore…

Raymond sighed harshly to himself. He wouldn’t be so bothered by the sudden change if it had been caused by something he’d done on purpose, but the fact that he was left completely in the dark on the source of the sudden shift did not sit well with him. At all. Well, fine then. Apparently he was going to have to find another opportunity to go back to the Plaza and get himself some answers, preferably before the abrupt change in their dynamic caused him to falter into another embarrassing state of complete distraction in the middle of a battle again…

“Will you stop pouting already before your cooling fans take off without you?” Raymond’s head snapped up at the teasing comment from Shannon as she approached him from farther down the corridor, a smug look etched firmly into her face. He narrowed his eyes at her, but she wasn’t fazed in the slightest. “What are you even being moody about now anyways?”

“Nothing,” he answered shortly, not exactly in the mood to talk about it.

“Ya caught me,” Shannon replied, throwing her hands up in a theatrical shrug, “I don’t actually care enough to pester you about it right now. But Dad was starting to have another freakout when I left him just now, so he’s probably going to launch an attack soon. I hope it’s your turn again because he almost never sends you.” She kept moving right past him, but not without flicking the tip of his pointed nose as she passed. “Anyways, have you seen Darrell 323-52 lately? He borrowed my good eyelash curlers the other day and I need them back.”

“In the gym still,” he answered, nodding down the hallway that she was already heading towards.

Her eyes lit up in amused surprise. _“Whaaat~?_ Darrells in the gym _without_ a Raymond watching over them?”

Raymond smirked knowingly back at her. “I’m letting them practice.”

“Wow~ Yanno, with enough time and even more luck, they might _actually_ get to the point of being interesting to play against.” Raymond snapped a commendatory finger gun at her for reaching the same snarky conclusion that he had, and she returned the gesture with a grin and dismissive wave of her hand as she rounded the corner at the far end of the corridor, leaving him to his own once more.

And, true to her intuition, it wasn’t five seconds later that the Attack alarms began blaring all throughout the compound, accompanied by a really rather unnecessary series of flashing lights and fainter echo of Shannon calling out an indignant exclamation from the far hallway. Judging by the sound, she must have been at least one of the bots chosen for the attack, but Raymond’s personal alert didn’t sound off, so he wouldn’t be joining her. He tried not to feel too disappointed. Another attack would be the perfect excuse to see the Plaza heroes again—and maybe he could get his answers. Although, he reasoned with himself, he wasn’t sure how much he would actually be able to find out if he was busy trying to fight them all off at the same time. But… if he went _after_ the fight, when the heroes were already somewhat tired-out, and he could probably find Radicles and confront him individually _without_ having to deal with the other two…

Maybe _this_ was the opportunity he needed after all.

He decided to take it, of course, and made his way out of the Boxmore complex and towards the Plaza. Apparently Lord Boxman had sent both Shannon and a Darrell this time, and while they had put up a good fight and actually done a bit of damage to the Plaza parking lot in the meantime, the two bots were still ultimately defeated even by the time Raymond reached the Plaza. Luck continued to appear to be on his side as he happened to catch Radicles just as he was leaving the alleyway that ran behind the Bodega, with none of the other heroes anywhere in sight. Perfect.

Raymond shot the rest of the way across the parking lot as quickly as he could, using the element of surprise to as much of his advantage as possible, and managed to successfully catch Rad off-guard and trap him in place against the side wall of the Bodega. Raymond honestly just wanted to talk, and that would be difficult if the hero were able to run away right from the start and gather reinforcements. Rad called out a strangled sound of fearful surprise and whisked around to face his mystery assailant, but the wide-eyed alarm very quickly shifted into an empty glower as he recognized the robot in front of him.

“What the—What’s another one of you doing here so soon already? And why didn’t the alarm go off?” He sank into a fighting stance as purple energy began to glow at his fingertips, but Raymond quickly held up a hand for him to stop. Surprisingly enough, Rad actually did pause, but not without raising an eyebrow questioningly at the pretense.

“Believe it or not, hero, I’m not here to fight for once,” Raymond explained, trying to convey the truth of his words as much as he could through his eyes as he met Rad’s unwavering glare. “That’s why your silly little alarm didn’t go off. I merely have a simple question that needs a hopefully-just-as-simple answer, and once I get what I need, I’ll be on my way again.” Rad pulled a face of utter disbelief and distrust, and Raymond narrowed his eyes, but the purple glow did dissipate from Rad’s hands, and so Raymond amicably raised his own hands in a similar gesture of truce and took a half-step back away from the hero. “Trust me, if I wanted a fight, you’d know already, because you’d be losing by now.”

The odd light from before flashed once again across Rad’s eyes for mere fractions of a second before he shook his head and returned to the almost-unnervingly-distanced glaring. “You’re lucky it’s just me out here right now, and that I’m _just_ gullible enough to give you a chance here,” he said tersely, never yet relaxing from his fighting stance, and went on to warn, “but I do _not_ trust you. So ask your dumb question already and get out of here before I do more damage than just sending you back to the factory this time.”

A bit overly-hostile for a truce situation, Raymond thought, but he was going to take what he could get. At least Rad _was_ giving him a chance to ask his question—which, now that it had finally come down to it, he actually felt rather strange and somewhat silly to be asking. But Raymond knew that it would only continue to vex him if he shied away from it now, so he steeled his suddenly-irresolute nerves and decided to just pose the question flat-out. “You’ve been behaving quite oddly recently, particularly in regards to me, and I haven’t the slightest idea _why._ Now, normally, I couldn’t care less about such a trivial change in the behavior of an enemy such as yourself, _obviously,_ but there’s just something… so _unusual_ about the new way you’ve started acting around me, and I demand an explanation.”

Rad had gradually grown eerily still again as Raymond voiced his inquiry, though not in the same way as before, and the slightest hints of panic now flickered along the edges of his otherwise carefully-masked appearance. The two of them stood in a silent stalemate for the next handful of moments, Rad looking more and more like a deer caught in the headlights with each passing one, until something finally registered, a decision finally made, and the glower returned with renewed contempt for the robot standing before him. “It’s nothing,” he practically snapped, moving away from the wall and attempting to push past Raymond towards the front of the store. “Now let me go; I gotta get back to my shift.”

“If you’re going to lie to me, you should at least _try_ to come up with something convincing,” Raymond chided, throwing out an arm to block Rad’s path once more. Rad once again paused at Raymond’s silent command, even though he could have very easily enough forced his way past, and Raymond couldn’t help but wonder why exactly that was. “Now, would you like to try again?”

The fire flaring up in Rad’s eyes was verging on dangerous now, but once again in that new, peculiar way that Raymond had never seen before and couldn’t stop thinking about. There was just something so… _magnetic_ about it, pulling him in more and more the longer he was around it—and he wasn’t going to leave without finding out why. “It’s none of your business,” Rad rehashed sharply, and Raymond sighed.

“If it concerns _me,_ then it becomes my business by default, whether _you_ like it or not.” He didn’t move his arm, and he didn’t miss the subtle movement of Rad clenching his hands into fists at his sides. Raymond snorted at how childish this whole situation truly was. “Honestly, _what_ is the big deal? From the way you’re reacting right now I would almost start to think that…” He trailed off as the realization caught up with his words, and the color drained from Rad’s face as he realized as well, ears flattening and eyes darting away in flustered agitation. Raymond had to stop and give himself a few moments to process in… something that was probably closest to genuine astonishment. “...You have a crush on me.”

The missing color was replaced with an intense flush almost instantly at the candid accusation, and Rad whipped around to face him again. “It’s not a crush!” he defended indignantly, his arms actually beginning to shake with how tightly he had his fists clenched, before forcing the boiled-over agitation back down to a more manageable simmer that continued to buzz just beneath his skin, and his tone was gravely bitter as he muttered out a sullen, “At least… not the kind you’re thinking of.”

It honestly wasn’t often that Raymond found himself caught in the dark on something. However, this appeared to be another one of those rare times. What was it about Radicles that attracted so much confusion on Raymond’s part? After thinking that he’d finally found the answer to his nagging question and then having it suddenly ripped away again, he was feeling more than a little whiplashed, and certainly somewhat annoyed now on top of that. What was it going to take to get to an actual answer here? He glossed over the past few seconds of disconcerted silence by scoffing and rolling his eyes. “And what could _that_ possibly even mean?”

Rad glared up at him again, but at this point something seemed to have cracked, and Raymond hoped with what little patience he had left that that meant he had finally given up on trying to keep his answers to himself. “It’s nothing—” Raymond raised an eyebrow in warning, but Rad wasn’t deterred, refusing to break their intense eye contact now even as his words periodically began to fluster with his nerves, “—that you’ll probably understand, because it’s a Planet X thing. Kind of like a crush, but different… I guess it’s closer to an opposite, almost, actually, but—look, for lack of a better word, we usually just call it a hatecrush. And I’m not gonna stand here and explain it all to you because it’s _none of your business_ , but it’s like… this thing where you have someone who thinks they’re better than you, but you feel that same way towards them too, and so you’re both constantly trying to one-up each other to prove who’s the best in whatever way possible, but all the while you still have this certain—ugh, see, it sounds _weird_ when you actually try to explain it out loud!” He crossed his arms and finally looked away again, down to where he petulantly scuffed at the ground with the toe of his boot. “But lately… I don’t know, okay? Just, the way you act and the things you say sometimes… It’s been making me… think… about that kind’a stuff… a little. But it doesn’t matter, okay? People don’t _do_ that kind’a thing here, so will you just drop it already?”

Raymond blinked slowly as he finished off his rant, and an enlightened smirk gradually began to stretch across his face as the first pieces of clarity began blooming in his understanding. How interesting that a singular explanation could illuminate the answers to so many questions that he hadn’t even realized he’d been asking. So many things suddenly made so much more sense, regarding both Radicles’ recent behaviors as well as a few of his own, and he couldn’t keep the condescending tone from edging his voice as he repeated, _“‘Hate-crush’~?”_

Rad groaned and pinched the bridge of his nose in unmitigated frustration. “See? _This_ is why I didn’t wanna say anything, because I _knew_ it wouldn’t make any sense to—”

“Who’s saying it doesn’t make any sense?” Raymond countered smoothly, voice continuing to dip lower than its usual tone, and the less-than-subtle change was not lost on Rad. “From what _I’ve_ gathered of your explanation, I think it makes _perfect_ sense…”

The alien cautiously peeked up from behind his hand, disbelief slowly beginning to dawn on his features as he saw the way Raymond was looking at him. “It’s not _just_ the competition, though,” he tried to explain, but his voice had gone softer now as well. _“Anyone_ can have a regular old rivalry—I mean, plenty of heroes and villains _do_ —but those aren’t the same as hatecrushes. For a hatecrush you also have to have… that certain kind of… _attraction_ there, too…”

“Said as though you’re _actually_ somehow under the impression that there is a _lack_ of attraction here~” Raymond’s voice dropped to nothing more than a purr, the words flowing with a liquid smoothness through the electricity that suddenly loomed so thick in air between them that it was almost suffocating, and all of a sudden they were close enough that their chests pressed flush against each other, pinning Rad back against the bricks of the wall behind him again as Raymond brought his other arm up to bracket him on either side. “Because if _this_ isn’t attraction... then I don’t know what is.”

Rad didn’t offer a response, eyes now heavy-lidded and breathing gone incredibly shallow, but his hands slowly rose from his sides and silently snaked their way up Raymond’s torso to ever-so-gently trace along the ridges that trailed up and along either side of his neck. The touches were exploratory, hesitant, as if he were afraid that the robot would break if he pressed too hard or for too long in the same spot, and it was actually incredibly relaxing. Raymond allowed his eyes to fall shut as he leaned into the soothing touch, idly musing that this was something that he could definitely get used to—just before snapping wide open again when Rad’s idly-wandering hands suddenly shot farther upwards with much more clearly-defined intentions; Raymond didn’t even have time to react as Rad clamped down on the oversized screws jutting out from either side of his head and yanked down with all of his strength. The unexpected impact of his back slamming full-force into the ground sent a shockwave through his entire body that thoroughly rattled his systems all the way down to his core, and when the static finally cleared from his vision again he saw Rad smirking down at him with quite possibly the smuggest expression he had ever seen.

“Alright, look…” Rad said amicably enough as he crouched low over Raymond’s body, keeping his grip held tight against the screws even though the robot was  _absolutely_ not going to be moving anytime soon after that kind of full-body impact. “I’m not really sure how much of this you actually do understand, or how much you’re actually serious about it…” He paused for a moment, and Raymond did his best to silently convey that he had never been more serious about anything else across his entire collective lifespan. “But if you’re _not_ just yanking my chain with this right now… If you _actually_ believe that we have a shot at something worthwhile here… then I think I might be just gullible enough to try giving _this_ a chance, too.”

“...Well, you _are_ pretty gullible,” Raymond shot back instinctively as he found control of his voice again, and once it left his mouth he could only hope that it hadn’t been the wrong thing to say.

Rad grinned, that dark spark flashing unhindered across his eyes now, and Raymond knew that he had made a good choice after all. “Don’t push it, dude,” he warned as he finally released him and stood up again, reaching his arms up over his head in a luxurious stretch like he hadn’t just been pinning someone else to the ground right outside of his place of employment. “We’re still enemies, after all. And I still don’t entirely trust you. So you better get outta here before I let it slip to someone else that there’s an un-smashed robot roaming around the back of the store that needs a good beat-down.”

“You’re… actually just going to let me go?” Raymond asked in genuine shock, still not moving from his spot on the ground as Rad took a few steps towards the front of the Bodega. Even in this best-case scenario that he hadn’t initially known was an option, he had still assumed in the far corner of his mind that this confrontation would end with a fight, if really only more for show than anything else. “Just like that?”

Rad smirked back at him, eyes glittering mischievously again in the afternoon sunlight. “I think I can let it slide, just this once. Don’t get used to it.”

But as he finally disappeared around the corner with a final taunting grin, Raymond couldn’t shake the feeling that he could, in fact, get very much used to it. Especially if their future encounters included similar instances of surprise full-body-slams that would leave Raymond’s mechanisms almost too-rattled to function properly at all anymore. Very, very used to it, indeed.

**Author's Note:**

> How the Got Dang Hale are you supposed to actually-properly end a story tho. Like???? *sighs*
> 
> One of these days I'll end up writing something fluffy and less than multiple-thousands of words for these two—but today is clearly still not yet that day~
> 
> Also, if people end up liking this idea/storyverse enough for whatever reason then I might write more for it later on, like what happens next, how the other characters end up reacting/feeling about the relationship when they find out about it, etc. etc., so lemme know if any of y'all would be interested in reading that~! :b
> 
> Anyways, hope you enjoyed & that you'll have a good rest of your day/night~! :3


End file.
